The Savior and the Sorceror
by Yamino Tenshi 202
Summary: Sequel to The Hero and The Magician. Alfred's fourth year, he sees a Quaffle hit another student. A cursed student. Arthur's fifth year, he met Alfred again. This wasn't supposed to happen. Better than it sounds. M for later events
1. Chapter 1

18 October 2011 – 5:15 PM

Well, here's my sequel to **The Hero and the Magician**. I hope you all enjoy it.

Note: I've seen a sequel to the doujin that was very optimistic, short, and a bit dramatic. I don't think that an emotional, social, and psychological problem would be solved that quickly, so this sequel is of an undetermined length.

Time: Three years after the doujin takes place  
>Place: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Of course)<br>Pairing: USUK/UKUS

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><p>The halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was rather quiet, ignoring the meaningless gossip floating in the air. A rumour was on the lips of many of the students... about a fifth year student.<p>

"Did you hear about him?"

"Who, the cute guy with those HUGE eyebrows?"

"There's the thing. His name is cursed."

"Really? No wonder everyone is staying away from him."

"-"

"-"

Arthur Kirkland, age 15, sat at an empty bench. Everyone made a big show of staying away from him.

After all, who would want to sit next to a cursed person?

He pulled out his "Ancient Runes" textbook and began to study. He didn't expect a Quaffle to hit his side.

Arthur cried out as he hit the ground, the Quaffle having knocked him over, as well as his study materials. He got up gathering his books, already accustomed to the small stares and glares and absolutely no movement to help him. Of course it would happen the first day that he decided to step out into the Quad.

Somehow, however... it felt different today.

"Hey, are you okay?" Arthur looked up.

A boy in standard 4th year robes Gryffindor house, same as Arthur's house, came over and began to gather Arthur's stray papers. The boy's sky blue eyes looked at Arthur.

"I wonder how a Quaffle got out of the Quidditch field."

Arthur couldn't hold his tongue. "It's called a 'parcel'." The boy looked at him, slightly puzzled.

"You speak British England?" Arthur looked up, making sure not to catch the younger student's eyes. He reached out for his papers, taking them.

"I speak proper English." He stood up, left the other on the ground and walked away.

What on Earth made him think that he could step out from the shadows as long as that boy was around.?

"You're welcome!"

Arthur practically ran to his room after he turned the corner.

Life's goal – Never meet that boy again.

_Arthur, I love you._

Never again.

* * *

><p>Alfred F. Jones, a fourth year student, sat with his friends at one of the tables in one of the small, enclosed clearings at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They complained, for a time, that Ravenclaw had gotten the field for Quidditch.<p>

"Heads up!" Alfred looked up and saw the Quaffle fly from the field. He stood, looking at the ball as it fell. It his a student on a bench in the hallway, behind the pillars that outlined the clearing.

Alfred stood up, ignoring his friends and rushing to help the other student. A hero _never_ lets people get hurt like that!

He saw, as he walked, that the boy had pale skin, almost like milk. His hair was blond, like the centre of a flower. He was a Gryffindor, judging by his scarf. How come Alfred didn't know him?

"Hey, are you okay?" Alfred knelt down and gathered some of the shorter male's papers. The boy looked at him, making eye contact. Alfred almost stopped breathing.

Then other student's eyes were a bright green. They seemed so lively, lovely... They were hypnotizing, defiant. Alfred, his throat dry, tried to start a conversation.

"I wonder how a Quaffle got out of the Quidditch field."

Nice conversation starter, Alfred. Can you taste the awkward?

"It's called a 'parcel'." Wait, what?

"You speak British English?" _That's cool_, Alfred thought. He loved hearing so many accents at Hogwarts, since it was an international school. His parents wanted him to go to the one in Britain, not really liking the one in the United States, because it didn't seem to have many opportunities in magic, what with the United States being a country of mostly technology.

Alfred's mother had heard many good things about Britain in general. Alfred had yet to talk to a British student.

He held out the papers. Alfred saw that the student avoided his eyes. Why was he trying not to look at him?

The boy grabbed the papers, prompting Alfred to let go of them. He placed them between his books. "I speak speak proper English."

The green-eyed blond stood up, turned on his heel, and walked off into the building. The air felt tense.

Alfred stood up, hands on his hips. He didn't get a "thank you," but maybe the other needed to be somewhere.

Alfred cupped his hands around his mouth.

"You're welcome!" Alfred smiled as his friend walked over. "Hey, guys."

"Alfred," said Francis, a French student. "Who were you talking to?"

* * *

><p>28 October 2011 - 8:16 PM<p>

Am currently watching the first Harry Potter film with my family. I love Snape very much.


	2. Chapter 2

28 October 2011 – 8:17 PM

Two chapters typed in one night. YAY!

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><p>Arthur sat in his room. After going to his classes, he immediately went to his room.<p>

And had not left since. As he changed into his nightgown, he saw blue.

"Fuck!" He grabbed one of his pillows and attempted to squash the living Hell out of it.

Three years.

Three years had passed.

Three years.

And the pain still would hit him with the same intensity, soul-wrenching agony.

Arthur hugged the pillow now, softly now, as he felt his eyes and throat burn.

No tears, please. They didn't solve a thing. They merely pooled in Arthur's eyes, fell and either shattered in a crystalline ripple and shower or be soaked by the rough rug tickling his feet or his clothes that wrapped his body, but provided no real warmth.

Arthur coughed, his green eyes finally spilling their contents and letting tears drip from his eyes, down his face, and then falling onto the pillow.

But it reminded him...

"No..."

That time.

"Please.

"I don't want to remember."

It was raining.

Alfred had been as still as he looked dead. Arthur had been so frightened...

And he had never felt so alone.

His tears bounced off of Alfred's cheeks and mixed with the rain that bounced off as well or began to run down the boy's skin or be soaked into the black robes that were now filthy and blood-stained.

Arthur hugged the pillow a bit tighter once more. He then closed his eyes, seeing the Alfred from his memories. Arthur brought the pillow to his face and nuzzled it, lowering himself.

_Alfred._

"_Arthur. I want to be with you."_

_Alfred._

"Alfred." Arthur looked around his room. There was a table, a trunk that had candles for spells, two bookcases, a wardrobe with a mirror inside, and drapes.

Not just on his two windows, but in front of his door and just in the doorway of the small corridor that led to his room.

He was locked away from the world. Professor Dumbledore had died three years ago...

Now Arthur was alone, though Professor McGonagall was very kind and helped him restrain his magic.

He had Alfred before.

He had a friend before.

…

A lover before.

_Eleven-year-old Alfred lay on the second-year student's bed, hands interlaced on his tummy. He stared up at Arthur's ceiling. Said Brit was lying down next to the first-year student, not struggling when the American moved him so that he could stick his head under Arthur's chin._

"_I love you, Arthur," he whispered, hugging the twelve-year-old closely to him; he could hear Arthur's heartbeat._

"_Silly git." Arthur blushed and returned the hug, cheeks burning red. He was so nervous, being with Alfred, as the curse could take effect at any time._

_But the curse could wait for now._

_Alfred held his breath as he felt Arthur's lips touched his head, planting a small kiss to his crown. He could feel time stop for just a moment. Alfred lifted his head to see Arthur's eyes close, cheeks red._

_Arthur opened his eyes and saw Alfred looking up at him._

"_You know I love you, right?" Alfred looked to the other boy expectantly._

_Arthur blinked and nodded. "I... I love you, too."_

_Their lips met and they were so happy._

He wailed into his pillow, airy and quiet. His voice couldn't give him solace. Only the silent aching of his hoarse throat could comfort him.

* * *

><p>Alfred sat in his Potions class, not really focused on the formulas for Liquid Luck or things like that. He wished his tutor could help him for his parchments that were due next week, but she was sick. A small fever, but it was annoying.<p>

He also couldn't get that blonde boy out of his mind.

Those green eyes were haunting to him.

They seemed...

Familiar.

"Al!" The America turned his head to the left. There sat his cousin Mathieu, a Canadian.

"What?"

"Your cauldron is boiling over!"

"Damn!"

17 November 2011 – 8:21 PM

My father bought the last Harry Potter film. I'm crying just like I was when I saw it at the cinema. FML

I don't know how frequent these updates will be so... yeah... Please don't kill me/flame me/throw poisonous marshmallow fluff at me. I have my wand at hand. *looks down at laser pointer in hands* I win.


	3. Chapter 3

20 Dec. 11 – 7:40 AM

Sh…

Do you hear that?

…

It's another chapter. Going to take my Calc. final in a bit…

EDIT: 25 February 2012 – 4:04 PM: Trust me, I'm trying to work on this story, and all of my other ones…

If someone told me how hard senior year was going to be, I would have pleaded with them to give me all of their notes! ALL OF THEM!

I got an A on that Final by the way. :D

* * *

><p>Alfred sighed, ignoring his pumpkin juice.<p>

Mathieu sighed as well, munching on a muffin. "Alfred, you have to eat."

"I don't want to."

Francis, a French student, a fifth-year, gasped. "Mon Dieu, Alfred n'ai pas de faim! C'est le fin du monde!"

"Tais-toi!" Mathieu cried out softly, hitting the older boy. As surprising as it was, Alfred seemed too depressed. Or rather, distracted. He placed his hand on the other's shoulder. "What's wrong, Al?"

Alfred shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. "It's not much, Matt." He decided that his throat was dry and that he could put this off for a few seconds, so he drank some of the pumpkin juice. Feeling the cool, orange liquid slide down his oesophagus and splash in his stomach, he put the now empty glass down and sighed.

"Do you remember yesterday, that boy with those huge eyebrows?" He gesticulated with his hands, holding up his hands to describe the size of that guy's eyebrows. Maybe Mathieu knew his name.

Mathieu looked clueless. "You mean that kid that got hit with the Quaffle?"

"Yeah, him!" Alfred was elated. "Do you know his name?"

"No one knows his name, Alfred."

Mathieu and Alfred both turned to Francis. Francis picked around at the eggs and sausage that they were eating this morning.

"Francis, what do you mea-" Mathieu was cut off by the Frenchman again.

"No one knows his name." Francis set down his utensils, seemingly annoyed. He wiped his mouth and then reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice to refill his glass.

Alfred reached out; he was clamping his hand down on Francis's so hard that the other couldn't move. "What do you mean, frenchie, by 'no one knows his name'?"

"Let go of me, Jones." Alfred did and Francis poured his drink, replacing the pitcher in its proper spot and downing the pint of juice rather much like Alfred chugging down water after a game of Quidditch.

"That boy – whose name is unknown except by few – came to Hogwarts the same year as me, along with Antonio, Gilbert, and Yao." Francis's blue eyes were staring at nothing, across to the two North American students, as though lost in a distant memory. "I had never been here to Scotland and my parents thought I could better my English rather than my German here.

"As we got sorted out to our houses, one student was never called, but was placed with Gryffindor. He sat down next to me.

"He was quiet, never speaking to anyone that would try to attempt conversation, though he would talk in class about the lesson if someone didn't understand. I had Potions with him, as well as Defence against the Dark Arts. He seemed very intrigued by both. I was more intrigued by the fact that the teachers never said his name. At least not his first name. It was as though he didn't exist."

Francis paused again. He looked around and was thankful that the other students hadn't risen up as early as they had. No classes today meant that a lot of students were sleeping in.

"Keep going," Mathieu insisted. He'd constantly been overshadowed by Alfred during family reunions and he could understand the feeling of being non-existent.

"Please." Alfred gripped his glass tightly in his hand.

"I managed to ask him to help me study for a Potions final. We were in my dorm room at the time, around the time of the Yule Ball, so no one was around as they were getting ready for the party and putting off studying to the last minute. It was just the two of us in the Ravenclaw Common Room. As he helped me study, I asked him what his name was. He looked at me and seemed so frightened by the question, as though he would die if I asked again.

"'Don't say that! Don't ask my name!' he yelled at me. I was frightened as well. I thought I'd asked a harmless question. When I managed to calm him down, I asked him why I couldn't know his name. He didn't seem like a bad person; we were only eleven at the time, so he couldn't have committed some huge crime.

"He told me that his name was cursed."

"Cursed?" Alfred knew that curses on families were hard enough to deal with.

To have a curse on something that a person couldn't change, on their _name_, sounded unbearable.

"Oui. I asked him to tell me, that I would be fine. He started to hyperventilate a bit, but he did tell me. I asked him instead how his name came to be cursed."

"How did it happen, Francis?" Mathieu wanted to bawl. This boy must be so lonely, never having anyone talk to him.

"It was- Damn…" Francis looked behind the two North Americans. His eyes were now distressed, a feeling of guilt misting and mixing in the light.

Alfred turned, knowing his cousin turned too, and was face-to-face with the vibrant green-eyed boy that enchanted him yesterday.

The fifth-year student held a tray with a plate of eggs and sausages, a small pitcher pumpkin juice, and a plate of toast with some marmalade on the side. The tray was slightly shaking now, as were the other's hands. His face was pale with fright.

"Francis…" Alfred remembered that voice from somewhere else, somewhere other than yesterday.

"I-I'm sorry," the Frenchman insisted. He didn't know that the other came early for breakfast as well. This was one of the few days that he, Mathieu, and Alfred ever did such a thing, but regarding the other fifth-former's hair and attire, the other had just woken up and had rushed to get to breakfast before everyone else, just like how it had always been. He reached out towards the other, as though by just standing and reaching out an arm, everything would be fine. The Englishman, his first friend before he got acquainted with Antonio and Gilbert, would forgive him...

The green-eyed boy trembled. Alfred stood up and grabbed the tray from the other's hands. He felt the soft skin of the other and almost sighed.

"Hold on, bud. We'd have a lot of glass to clean up if you dropped the tray," Alfred said, trying to steer this... conversation from this curse-business.

"Al..."

Alfred blinked, tray in his grasp now as the older student let go.

"How do you know my name?"

The older student ran from the Great Hall, never paying any mind to the shouts that were after him.

* * *

><p>Arthur couldn't breathe. He sat on his bed, trying to stop his hyperventilation.<p>

"That French bastard..." Tears rolled off of his cheeks just like the night before, but so much worse. Alfred almost learned his name.

"_Arthur..."_

"No, stop!" He cried out, almost seeming insane because no one was there. Talking to nothing was not something that a wizard did. What a great wizard he was!

He was so strong already. He had defeated his brothers in duels years before he had even been enrolled at Hogwarts. What a great wizard!

Who couldn't save the one he loved...

Alfred lay on the ground, rain and blood on his body and staining his clothes.

"Stop! Stop!" He kept on screaming, trying to keep the horrifying memories from invading his neutral life. He wasn't too happy in this time-line, but Alfred was safe and happy.

That was all that mattered.

"_You'll lose everything... Just when you think it's fine and lovely..._

"_You'll never be happy."_

Arthur stood up, his heart frantically pacing to keep up with his thoughts, which were almost slurring together.

Oh God; Oh God; They were right; This curse won't ever go away; I will never be happy; Iwillnever behappy;;Alfredwillbesafedon'tworry'Icanneverbewithhim;I'

Why?

"_Arthur... why?"_

The sound of glass filled the room and Arthur was lucky that Professor McGonagall was coming to check on him already by the time he had shattered the mirror, shards of silvered glass cutting deep into his wrists.

* * *

><p>26 February 2012 – 6:56 AM<p>

Ignore the rants.

*French Rant.* Puttane de broudelle de merde...

*Japanese Rant.* Watashi no inochi kirai...

Anyway, read and review.

Mon Dieu, Alfred n'ai pas de faim! C'est le fin de monde! – Oh God, Alfred isn't hungry! It's the end of the world!

Tais-toi! – Shut up! (informal/rude)


	4. Chapter 4

28 February 2012 - 2:30 PM -ish

Typing skool, typin' skool ~

More angst!

BTW: There is no sequel to "The Hero and The Magician," in case anyone was wondering.

* * *

><p>Why did he get that magic mirror?<p>

* * *

><p>Alfred, Mathieu, and Francis were walking out of the Great Hall, watching the other students as they clambered to eat their breakfast. Francis leaned against the wall in the infirmary wing once the three of them stopped there. Alfred sat on the ground beside him while Mathieu stayed in the Frenchman's arms.<p>

"Maybe Madame Pomfrey knows some about the curse," Mathieu chirped hopefully.

"That would be Professor Lovegood, mon petit," Francis noted softly. He ruined a friendship he could've saved, so he wasn't in the best of moods.

"The Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher?" Alfred asked. Luna Lovegood, one of the youngest professors here at the school. She was to marry Neville Longbottom, an employee at Ministry of Magic, the coming summer. The American gasped. "Maybe she would know?"

"Hurry, Poppy! Get his wounds- Yes, here."

"Oh, dear. Poor boy!"

"What happened, Headmistress?"

Two professors were carrying a stretcher towards the three students. Headmistress McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, Professor Lovegood, and another professor.

Alfred stood up. "What's going on?"

"Will you three please move?" Minerva, the new Headmistress, had sweat dripped down her forehead, her stress lines from age even more prominent from the desperation that was now so openly expressed by her eyes and face, pallor pale.

Alfred and his friends moved to the wall so that the four professors could move the stretcher...

Though none of them expected to see the green-eyed boy to have his eyes closed and to have blood coursing down his arms. Glass shards were angrily digging into the skin, as though the boy had brought on the wrath of Hell itself and needed to be punished.

"Hey!" Alfred called after the professors. "What happened to him?"

Professor McGonagall turned to the American.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, but I cannot tell you anything about this boy." She saw sadness begin to glaze over his bright blue eyes. She sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Jones."

"Yes?" Alfred asked hopefully.

"This is one person that doesn't want to be saved."

Alfred died a bit more inside.

The headmistress went back inside to the infirmary, asked Madame Pomfrey what she needed, and attended to her special student.

* * *

><p>"<em>Dont let me near him, Prof- Headmistress."<em>

_Minerva smiled. "Of course, Mr. Kirkland." She noticed the child flinch. After what he had told her, she would do whatever she had in her power to keep Alfred F. Jones safe._

_She looked at the picture that the twelve-year-old had handed to him._

_A gentle boy and a boy whose smile was small but bright were hugging each other closely. Bright blue and green were together. They smiled and then turned to each other and pecked their mouths together, like two delicate little songbirds, sharing a meal._

_As that boy, her poor student, left the room, she placed the picture in a box and locked it with a quick spell. She placed it in a drawer and locked it with a Muggle lock and another spell._

_She then leaned back in her chair and then, leaning her head over the back of the chair itself, placed a hand over her eyes and let the tears come out._

Alfred frowned as the doors closed.

He stumbled a bit.

"Al?" Mathieu reached forward and grasped his cousin's shoulder.

"Green..."

"_aLFred."_

"_Don'T LEAve mE!"_

"_..."_

"I knew his name..." Francis gasped softly, as did the Canadian.

Francis came close and grabbed the American by the shoulders, turning him so that they were face to face.

"What do you mean, you knew his name?" Blue glared at blue, but his gaze softened as he saw Alfred's eyes.

They were filled with tears.

"I-"

"_Wake up."_

His eyes became glazed over.

"I don't remember his name... but we knew each other." Mathieu tilted his head.

"How can you know someone and not know someone later?"

Francis let go of Alfred and rubbed the American's back as Alfred rubbed his eyes, cleaning away the salty drops from his face.

Alfred looked up. Determination burned in his heart. He used to know that boy. Why else would he seem so familiar? The other boy even knew his name! That had to mean something!

"Let's go to the library!"

* * *

><p>A man with a dark black cloak walked down the hall to the infirmary. It was sunset now and he'd been called to Hogwarts for important business.<p>

Walking in, he saw that Madame Pomfrey still was the nurse and saw Profes- _Headmistress_ McGonagall at the beside of a younger boy, a fifth-year student.

"Headmistress?"

"Mr. Kirkland?" McGonagall said, standing.

"Please," he said, nodding his head in respect. He sat down on the other side of the bed and stroked the child's forehead with his calloused hand.

"Call me Aedan."

* * *

><p>28 February 2012 – 7:40 PM<p>

Dude.

A chapter in a day.

DAMN...

Please review.

BTW: Aedan = Scotland.


	5. PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

**THIS IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT. (Bolded because it's important)**

A lot of authors have been taken off of fanfiction(.)net. The main reason the site is doing this is because, to their reasoning, these authors write stories well beyond the M-rating.

Problems with this that I have:

1) Adult Fanfiction (.) net always deletes my stories, so I can't do anything about it.

2) It's not my fault if some little kid (10-12) decides to read stuff that has been rated too high for them. They shouldn't be reading it, but that doesn't mean they won't.

3) I liked those "too high over the scale" M-rated fics. They were well written. If we have to take them off because of some sexual content, shouldn't everything be taken off the site? Well, not everything, but A LOT of it.

For this, I have decided not to write fics on here anymore. I'm moving it all to my tumblr and my livejournal.

unchangeablexangel (.) tumblr (.) com

jisatsu-tenshi (.) livejournal (.) com

I just wanted to let everyone know, and I don't want my stuff to be deleted for good. I've learned how to write on this site, but if it will take my stuff off, then I'm leaving.

Thank you.

**- Yamino Tenshi 202**


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